Keeper-
Keeper has never dreamt of being a ghost.
The wind maybe, or a swift river coursing through the land but nothing as insubstantial as a specter. Tales of haunts have been told to her but as cautionary tales, or lore of old, never as something that she had taken seriously or snatched at via her imagination. If anything, Keeper dreamt of changing her shape into that of an awkward but adorable little fawn or a graceful doe with large liquid eyes. But a ghost? No, never that. Not like the one that keeps sighing and attracting keeper to her almost intangible side. Because for a moment, she thinks she has imagined the other because she seems to come and go as though not quite tied to this mortal coil like Keeper is.
It makes her wonder what it must be like to shed one’s skin and become well, whatever spirits are made of. Must be air, memories, and little else and she has a thought to ask because she’s not quite sure if the girl is real or not. Then there is a smile and an elegant little dip of the head that assures Keeper that the girl is real enough now, and she gives a small bright bark of laughter. “I almost thought I had imagined you!” she admits, because it has never bothered her to reveal how odd she is, and she is rather honest - more so than is perhaps necessary to be, but Keeper refuses to keep things back from others.
Both of them are conversational misfits, as the girl blathers on about Keeper’s name and offers up her own. Not once is she thought of as rude or demanding, just beautiful and brash but in a much understated way that is almost ethereal and not at all like unkempt Keeper with her mane full of knots and sticks, and fur that is thicker in preparation for winter. “Oh,” she offers with a smile. “I’m Keeper and it’s nice to meet you Salt.” she’s not much for introductions and small talk either, but she really just wanted to roll the girl’s name off her tongue. “What brings you to the Meadow?” Keeper is curious, but she really wants to ask why the girl kept sighing, why she seemed so lonesome.
not knowing how deep the woods are and lightless